


Two Hunters

by HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Category: Lucha Underground
Genre: Gen, Hunters & Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The king of hunters and the predator prince go on a hunting trip and bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Hunters

 Cuerno _itches,_ in the Spaniard’s temple. Not that he’s unaccustomed to temples, not that the adulation of the crowd is unpleasant, but it is not _his_ temple and not _his_ crowd. They are there for the Spaniard’s theatrics and not simply for worship, and the walls are close, so close. In older times, _his_ temples were full of open spaces.

After one of the Spaniard’s exhibitions he finds himself discontent. The fights were good, the blood was fresh but he is _bored,_ stalking through the itch of the Spaniard’s temple as little people with machines he doesn’t understand scatter out of his way. He can only be so sated by combat, and that’s all the Spaniard offers him. _Combat._ No _challenge,_ no chase, no joyous taste of blood on his lips, no meat for the taking. He hasn’t hunted in a long time. People and stone encroach on his wilderness.

A thought. _The cat._ The cat would be good company—not prey to chase, but a companion for the hunt. He will look for the cat.

Prince Puma is with the star creature, the woman who smells like power. They lean together, silent, their hands flickering in a way that Cuerno doesn’t understand and isn’t really interested in. The cat’s handler is nearby, looking disapproving.

All three look up warily at Cuerno’s approach, and the handler says, “What do you want?”

Cuerno ignores him—only a handler, not important—and says to Prince Puma, “Hunt with me.”

The handler looks miffed. Puma stares at him for a moment, head cocked to one side, and then moves his fingers as he was doing with the star woman.

“He says, why should he trust you?” The star woman certainly doesn’t sound like _she_ trusts him. “You and he are enemies.”

Cuerno shrugs. “We are enemies _here,_ but this is only one place. Do you not crave blood on your tongue, cat? Come hunting with me.”

More flickering. “He wants to know where, and for how long.” And another movement. “And he says that he’ll rip out your throat if you’re lying.”

“Wherever there is game, and until we both tire of it.” Cuerno grins, feeling his second face tight over his skin. “The king of the hunt does not lie, and you love the chase as much as I do.”

Prince Puma turns to the star woman, and they speak in their silent language of hands for a moment. He leans in close to her—they do not kiss, they rub their cheeks together in a gesture of sexless affection—and then stands up. His handler stands too, looking angry, and says, “I didn't agree to this.”

King Cuerno grins at _him._ “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask you.”

* * *

 

All places where game runs are open to the god of the hunt, and Los Angeles is hot. So King Cuerno opens a door in the temple and takes them north, to where the air is cold and the ground has snow and they can hunt things of a decent size. He takes them west as well, so that they can hunt in proper twilight, though the mountains he chooses make it seem much darker.

When they step out onto the snow and Cuerno closes the door behind them he turns to Prince Puma and says, “You’re not actually a puma, are you. Does your handler actually know what you are?”

Prince Puma eyes him sidelong for a moment and then pitches forward. Fur shivers down his skin. Claws curl out of his fingers. His spine elongates, his tail stretches out and brushes against the snow. And then he shakes himself and lets out a coughing roar, and his teeth are sharp.

Cuerno laughs and claps. “ _Now_ we can understand each other. Come on, my jaguar friend. Let’s hunt!”

* * *

 

They take down a bull moose. It’s three times their size, which makes it _almost_ a challenge, crashing through the forest with its bugling call while they pursue on foot. Humans would not be able to catch it; they are not human. Once it’s brought low, Prince Puma almost eats it whole, so fevered with the hunt that he doesn’t want to wait, but King Cuerno stops him.

“It was a good beast.” He reaches for his knife. “It deserves honor.”

Puma shivers back into a man’s form while Cuerno is butchering, finds a cave, and makes them a fire at its mouth, protected from wind. There’s a fat kidney for each of them, a liver to split, and a heart to burn and fill the air with the savor of a good hunt, and meat in plenty. They feast and drink cold river water, and Puma licks the blood off of Cuerno’s hands with his rough tongue while Cuerno tells him of past hunts, and Cuerno falls asleep with his back against the cave wall and Puma curled up across his legs like another hunter might sleep with a favorite dog.

* * *

 

Cuerno returns Prince Puma to the temple two days later, once they’ve had their fill of hunting and he’s no longer full of the killing itch. The star woman and Puma’s handler are there to meet them, but of the two, only the handler looks at all shocked or puzzled by their new closeness, he’s the only one raising any eyebrows when Cuerno bids Puma farewell by scratching the back of his neck and pressing their cheeks together.

The star woman just says, “You smell like blood.”

Cuerno shows her his teeth. “It was a good hunt.”


End file.
